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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29154849">FLOwERs FOR MAChiNES</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/awakened_treepanda/pseuds/awakened_treepanda'>awakened_treepanda</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Hope's Peak Academy (Dangan Ronpa), Character Study, Gen, Kinda, Maki's Free Time Events Spoilers, Maki-centric, No Dialogue, because Symbolism or something, up until the end anyway</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:47:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,120</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29154849</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/awakened_treepanda/pseuds/awakened_treepanda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>But she wasn’t a perfectly cut handkerchief, unblemished and decorated with pretty patterns. She was a rag; misshapen, torn at the seams, stained with red. Her only purpose was to wipe the blood off a knife before being discarded into a fire, burning away until no trace remained of its existence. She was fated to live in the shadows, either snuffing out small lights of life or shying away from its radiance entirely— </p><p>“Maki Roll!”</p><p>—until she was hauled over a broad shoulder and forced under the light, exposing herself to its soothing warmth.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harukawa Maki &amp; Momota Kaito</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>FLOwERs FOR MAChiNES</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wrote this around June/July 2020 for a gift fic exchange with some friends. I honestly don't remember what I was going for when I wrote this, but I do know I used <a href="https://youtu.be/aLvUYQL-UmU">this song</a> as inspiration because I was into Nier at the time. Uh, enjoy? 'Cause this might be my last DR fic for a while.<br/>~Panda</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A little girl stumbled into her room, collapsing onto her bed. She didn’t bother changing out of her battered clothes or cleaning the dirt and dried blood out of her hair; she just barely found the energy to lie on her back. The dull ceiling that greeted her only made her feel more empty after another day of torturous training.</p><p>She could still recall the agonizing burning in her muscles as she trained to accomplish the nigh-impossible goal of overcoming her physical human limitations. The cuts and strikes that marred her skin and seeped into her bones, leaving her broken and covered in a warm liquid that matched her eyes. Her descent into cold indifference as she became numb to all that she felt until she was no one but a tool to kill.</p><p>If she didn’t know better, she’d wonder if she was in hell.</p><p>This place might as well be hell with what she went through every day, she decided. From merciless drills to actual torture, she felt herself being torn apart at the seams at an excruciatingly slow pace only to somehow knit herself back together and do it all over again. It would be easier if she’d just give in and break so she could lose herself— stop <i>feeling</i>— and turn into the disposable weapon she was supposed to be, so <i>why</i>—</p><p>
  <i>Warmth. Echoes of high-pitched laughter. Kind eyes, pigtails, and a radiant smile.</i>
</p><p>With an annoyed pout, she gathered the strips of Maki Harukawa, sewing the tattered mess back together with a needle and thread made of memories and hope.</p><p><br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
</p><p>The orphanage hadn’t changed a bit from when she was taken away— no, <i>left</i> all those years ago. After what she’d been through, her memories of running around with the other kids and playing House seemed like a completely different life, one that wasn’t and will never be hers. Yet, the signs remained. A pair of worn red slippers gathering dust in the cubby. A plastic mug with her name scrawled on the side. A crude drawing of two small girls smiling taped to the wall. Despite herself, Maki smiled.</p><p>She’d gone through hell. Tore her feelings apart with a bloody knife and tossed them aside. But the pieces remained, held together by memories and a girl’s blinding light, waiting for her to put them back where they belonged. She wasn’t the same— will never <i>be</i> the same— but she was home nonetheless, broken but whole thanks to the thread of hope that had dangled from above while she was burning in the abyss. She had reached out, desperate, and the thread managed to carry her weight throughout her training, thin but promising. It continued to hold true even as she climbed it, an anchor that brought light to the darkness and gave her the strength to keep climbing it until she had arrived at the orphanage— home.</p><p>Gripping the thread tightly, Maki followed it to its source, the only person who was bright enough to guide her out of hell—<br/>
—only to find a frayed end.</p><p>Her friend was dead, they said. Died in an accident saving someone else. The thread faded from her grasp. Had it even existed in the first place?</p><p>A chorus of shouts was her only warning before she was tackled by a horde of children, each of their grins a small but strong light. Again, despite herself, she smiled.</p><p>The end of the thread may have been frayed, but each of its fibers had led to their blinding smiles.</p><p><br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
</p><p>This was stupid, she thought as she looked up at the towering Hope’s Peak Academy.</p><p>How the hell did she end up here as the <i>Ultimate Assassin</i>? The Holy Sanctuary’s hidden nature as an assassination organization was only known to a select few, so how in the world did one of the most prestigious schools in Japan manage to not only find out about them, but also scout one of their best assassins as a <i>student</i>? The whole arrangement reeked of dubiousness, but she didn’t have much choice but to go along with the farce.</p><p>Adjusting the strap of the school bag that hung on her shoulder, she sighed and walked through the gates.</p><p>The first thing she noted was the other students— other Ultimates— that loitered about the courtyard. Few paid attention to her as she walked by, too absorbed in their own matters, but she could tell that her presence didn’t go unnoticed from the occasional curious glance towards her. She <i>was</i> a new student, after all, and they were most likely curious about her, or more specifically, her talent.</p><p>She quickened her pace.</p><p>The interior of the academy was like any other fancy high school save for the unique facility here and there. The halls were long and spacious, but she managed to find her classroom without a problem, unlike the student she happened to pass by earlier who seemed to have been asking for directions from an upperclassman. Probably one of her classmates. Indifferent, she slid the door open.</p><p>All eyes landed on her upon entry. She had expected it, but it still made her feel out of place even if none of their gazes were hostile. She didn’t belong here, in an academy that fostered the future hopes of their country. All she was destined for was to be disposed of and sent to hell.</p><p>Without a word, she took an empty seat against the wall and put on her earphones.</p><p>From the corner of her eye, she could see someone approach, a blonde-haired girl with a kind smile. Before she was forced to engage in awkward introductions, the classroom door slid open with a loud bang.</p><p>It was the student she had passed by earlier. His spiky hair was a bit disheveled, probably from running around trying to find their classroom, and he wasn’t even wearing their uniform right, opting to let one of his school blazer’s sleeves hang pointlessly at his side, but he seemed oblivious to both his appearance and the ruckus he’d caused as he donned a charismatic grin and introduced himself.</p><p>Her classmates were quick to gather around him with their own introductions, drawn to his light. She paid them no heed and minded her own business as the new guy took a seat next to her and attempted to catch her attention. When he tapped her shoulder, she sighed and took off an earphone bud, sending him a blank stare. He introduced himself to her with an annoyingly bright smile, and despite herself, she wanted to return it, even as she replied dismissively and ignored him until the bell rang.</p><p><br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
</p><p>The sky had long gone dark by the time she returned to the academy. She swiftly made her way to the dorms, surprised to see the lights still on. Entering the building without a sound, she decided to sneak a peek at whoever was still in the common room at this time of night.</p><p>She didn’t expect to see him sitting alone at the island counter, staring intently at the mug between his hands.<br/>
As if feeling her gaze on him, he looked up from his drink and immediately locked eyes with her. His expression brightened— it was almost blinding to look at— but then dimmed just as quickly. What was his problem?</p><p>He greeted her as he would anyone else, but it was painfully obvious that something was bothering him. Though she didn’t particularly care about him, seeing his blinding smile become muted didn’t sit well with her at all.</p><p>Sighing, she asked him what was wrong. He blinked, clearly not expecting her concern, before returning to stare into his mug, expression troubled. Her gaze never left him even as the atmosphere grew awkward.</p><p>Just as she was about to consider threatening him to spill, he looked back to her and asked if she just returned from an assassination.</p><p>Now it was her turn to blink. Why did he care? She relayed her exact thoughts to him.</p><p>He shook his head. No, he didn’t care, he said, because he knew that she was a good person despite being an assassin, and he really wanted to get to know her better— as a friend.</p><p>All of a sudden, her walls vanished. She was genuinely taken aback by his blind faith in her. Was this guy an idiot? Who’d put their trust in a weapon— a mere tool to kill? Yet it appeared that he did just that going by his goofy, honest smile. His light, even if only temporary, chased away the shadows that had stalked her, and she thought she could finally see a star shining in the pitch-black sky.</p><p>Maki’s surprise only lasted a moment before she put her walls back up and pouted, calling him an idiot without any real bite. Kaito made an offended sound and joined her as they both retired for the night.</p><p><br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
</p><p>Maki didn’t know what she was doing trying on clothes in a mall.</p><p>Kaede <i>was</i> very insistent, she supposed. Giving in was easier than trying to resist anyway, so that was how she and the blonde ended up in the clothes’ section of the shopping mall, browsing through and trying on outfits like a pair of normal teenage girls.</p><p>Maki hadn’t intended to go out on the weekend; she didn’t have any new missions and had no reason to leave the academy, so she didn’t. At least, until Kaito practically barged into her room and announced that they— they being her, Kaito, Kaede, and Shuichi— were going to ‘hang out’ and have some fun. At this point, she knew the astronaut-in-training well enough to know that resistance was futile, so she sighed and went along with it, taking some solace in the fact that Shuichi had seemed equally perplexed as her.</p><p>They started out with a movie— some horror mystery film that had Kaito clinging onto her arm for dear life as Shuichi tried to figure out the gimmicks behind each murder, explaining them to Kaede. Then they went to the arcade, wherein Kaito would teach her how to play a game only to promptly get destroyed by her every time. Finally, they decided to split up as Kaede dragged her away to the girls’ section of the clothes store they were in. They were to meet up in half an hour to eat some snacks before returning to the academy.</p><p>Maki must’ve tried out half a dozen articles by now. Kaede still seemed to be going strong, trying on far more clothes than her, but she was getting tired of putting on and taking off clothing, and they were due to meet the boys soon. They’d better pay for their things.</p><p>Maki looked at the clothes she wanted to buy: a black-collared red blouse with a pale pink scarf tied like a ribbon at the center, a pleated black plaid skirt, and thigh-high socks that matched the blouse. She wasn’t really one for dressing up, preferring more practical attires, but for some reason, this outfit was...appealing, to her.</p><p>If she had been born a normal girl, raised in a normal family and lived like a normal teenager, she might’ve had more clothes like these in her wardrobe. She might’ve cared more about fashion trends and might’ve had normal hobbies and skills. But—<br/>
A boom of laughter caught her attention. She looked up from the clothes in her hands to spot a group of girls giggling to themselves as they went shopping.</p><p>She recognized them as the friend group of the illegitimate daughter of a yakuza leader that she had assassinated back in middle school.</p><p>But she wasn’t a perfectly cut handkerchief, unblemished and decorated with pretty patterns. She was a rag; misshapen, torn at the seams, stained with red. Her only purpose was to wipe the blood off a knife before being discarded into a fire, burning away until no trace remained of its existence. She was fated to live in the shadows, either snuffing out small lights of life or shying away from its radiance entirely—</p><p>“Maki Roll!”</p><p>—until she was hauled over a broad shoulder and forced under the light, exposing herself to its soothing warmth.</p><p>Kaito jogged up to her, carrying one of the tackiest space-themed sweaters she’s ever seen. “Look what I found! Isn’t it awe— oh, hey, are ya buying that?”</p><p>Maki jolted back into attention. “Wh— y-yeah. What about it?”</p><p>He hummed, contemplative. “It’s nothin’, just thought that it suits you. C’mon, let’s pay for our stuff.”</p><p>Kaito took her hand in his, a gentle touch that scrubbed away the red stains of a dirty rag, and she basked in the light.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I was supposed to post this on Maki's birthday. But then I forgot. Thank goodness for the changeable publication date option. :&gt;<br/>~Panda</p></blockquote></div></div>
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